The Show Must Go ON
by Lilith Duvare
Summary: What if Blaine and the gang weren't actually characters of Glee, but the actual actors of the show? This little drabble series attempts to follow the long way one Blaine Anderson has to take to reach his dreams and win the man of said dreams... Slash!
1. Ep01

_**Title: **__The Show Must Go On_

_**Author: **__Lilith Duvare_

_**Fandom: Harry Potter/Glee**_

_**Pairings:**__ Harry Potter/Blaine_

_**Ratings:**__ PG-13/T (coz the cursing)_

_**Genre: Crossover, **__Romance, Humour, General, Friendship_

_**Warnings: Slash! **__boy kissing (sadly just in the last chapter), pathetic attempts on wittiness and humour oh and cursing. AND bitch!Harry_

_**Summary: **__What if the Blaine and the gang weren't actually characters of Glee, but the actual actors of the show? This little drabble series attempts to follow the long way one Blaine Wilson has to take to reach his dreams and win the man of said dreams... Harry Potter, the head bitch choreographer of the show._

_**Disclaimer:**__I sure don't own either Harry Potter or Glee, which is obviously sad in my opinion, but can't be helped. It means, I get absolutely no money for this... a pity._

_**A/N: **__I decided to put this into the crossover basket although the only crossover-y thing is the presence of Harry who could actually fit into the role of an OC, because he's being a cruel bitch when it comes to dance... but you'll find this out soon enough. Sure, there is one little mention of the Weasleys around the chapter before the last, but that's it. No Dark Lords or wars, because that's the past and we're living in the present. Only Dance Magic. I hope you'll like it. This is my Christmas present to you guys._

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_**The Show Must Go On**_

**Ep. 1 - Pilot**

"...and now, step, step, slide, turn and torso bent! No! No! What are you a bunch of crippled old hags? You're supposed to be seductive! Seductive!" Blaine refused to flinch back from the force of that husky, powerful voice.

He bit his lip, wondering if he was at the wrong place, but the text on the plate next to the door matched with the text on his note, reading _P. Hall 11_, which could only mean that he was to be under the mercy of the owner of that voice. He looked around, hand hovering above the door handle, wishing that some of his co-stars would arrive, but no one's there and he had no other choice but going in.

"Berry, are you really this dim-witted?" Hearing this Blaine did flinch back. "It's nothing hard. You bend your upper body forward, curl your back and slide your hand down your midget body!"

The first thing Blaine realized upon opening the door was that he was in a simple practice room with enough space to hold at least fifty people, a full mirror wall and a terraced stage placed in front of the opposite wall. The next thing he noticed was six girls in simple work-out clothes, one of them, a really short girl with brown hair in the front, was glaring daggers at the lean, black haired man in front of her.

"What? You need me to show you how to be a _real_ woman?" the man asked, his reflection flashing a cruel smirk at the furious girl. "Maybe I really should, because aside from Lopez there none of you have any clue what you are doing!"

The olive skinned girl, named Lopez straightened his back for a second, his expression arrogant and almost predatory. "Now you just earned yourself a brownie point in my fuck-buddy note book," she said with a saucy grin and the still nameless man sneered while Blaine almost chocked to death on thin air.

"Sure Santana, the moment you get rid of your plastic balls and grow a dick I'll gladly bed you. Until then, don't even mention yourself and sex in the same sentence, because it only makes me nauseous." He felt as his eyes widen comically and a tiny sound escaped his lips, instantly drawing everyone's attention to himself.

His body froze on the spot and for some insane reason he felt guilty even though he didn't do anything wrong. Seven pair of eyes stared at him, measuring him and judging his value without even knowing who he was which not only made him even more flustered but a bit angry too. But then he made the mistake of meeting the most striking eyes he ever saw and all air left his body as those glowing acid green orbs bore into his soul.

"One of the new boys, I presume?" Of course Blaine did not shiver as that sensual voice caressed his senses. It didn't sound angry or cruel like only a few moments ago which surprised him. "Take a seat on the stage, your mates aren't here yet and these _ladies_ decided to make my life a living hell."

"More likely it was you who decided to be a bigger jerk than usual," the small girl, Berry, spat, putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh shut up, Hobbit, it is your disgusting frigidity's fault that we're still here!" Santana snarked back. "I'm not surprised Finn is jittery all the time, I bet you can't even be a woman enough to jerk him off!"

"After this enlightening... hm... little detail about the nonexistent sex life of Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson, let me tell you something." Here the man stopped for a moment, enjoying the tension in the air. "None of you even reached the level where I can tell you that you all suck. So if you would step back and let me show you how is this done, we all could get rid of each other a bit sooner."

Blaine tried to refrain from openly gaping. Would they have to endure such verbal abuse from the – admittedly extremely hot, not that it mattered – seemingly short tempered choreographer too? Because he wasn't sure he could take such remarks silently even if they weren't intended to be personal.

For God's sake he was eighteen and just out of high school, and was extremely lucky to get into _Glee_ which was one of the most popular TV series in America nowadays! Sure the others were around his age too, but at least they had a year of experience ahead of him, because honestly who would count as impromptu gigs at cafes, uploading his songs on Youtube and playing in school dramas as experience? This was the real thing and the fact Blaine had no talent when it came to dancing frightened him more than anything at that moment.

He was brought back to reality by the beginning of a Bon Jovi song and the next moment his eyes was glued to the figure in the centre of the room, because man, those hips knew how to sway to seduce unsuspecting bystanders without even really trying. The man was enticing and Blaine thought that even the straightest men would question their sexuality upon watching the performance the choreographer was putting on.

He thought he heard one of the girls, he suspected it was Santana Lopez, moan something along the line of "All this sexiness is wasted on men!", but he wasn't sure he heard it right as his mind was so deep in the gutter, ogling that firm ass and lithe body swaying and twisting like some kind of snake or feline perfectly in tune with the mash-up.

Fortunately the song was over before his overloaded mind could process all the dirty and mortifying fantasies that flooded it during the show, preventing him from doing something that would either get him kicked out of the show on his very first day or make him wish the stage could swallow him in whole.

The man turned around, cocking an eyebrow, only slightly out of breath, which was impressive in itself after such an intense performance, asking, "Did you get the gist of the meaning of being seductive or do I have to show you again?"

"Wasn't that a fine show girls?" the dark skinned, curvy girl asked, smirking suggestively. "We should accept you as a honorary girl, like we did with Kurt. After all you sure as hell can dance like a bitch."

"Why thank you, Merce!" the man beamed with a sharp glint in his eyes. "Now back into formation and from the top!"

And the instructions started once again, accompanied by sneers and jibes, but by the time Blaine's co-actors started to arrive, the girls' moves were smoother and more in tune with each other.

Of course Mr. Slave Driver was far from satisfied. "I can't even fathom how Andrew hasn't ripped his hair out yet, if you are as pathetic during Cheereos practice as here."

"You can go fuck yourself, Potter. I'd even lend you some of my toys for it," Santana snarled, then grabbed her bottle of water and ignoring the wide-eyed, spluttering boys just a few feet away from her, stormed out of the room.

"For once I agree with Santana and if I didn't find what she said so crude and disgusting I would wish you the same," Rachel added, sticking his nose in the air before following the other girl.

"Anyone else? Maybe someone even wants to watch as I put those toys into action?" asked Potter, rolling his eyes earning a few squeaks from the newbies and chuckles from the girls.

"Don't need to go overboard, White Boy, these gents next to us are ready to faint and you haven't even turned on your _charm_," Mercedes said.

"Although maybe you should start _gentle_ with them," one of the blondes added causing Blaine to forget to breathe once again.

"None of them have been fortunate enough to feel your _power_, when it comes to _dominating_ others," was the Asian girls response and all of them laughed and winked at them before heading out of the room leaving behind twelve beet red and gawking boys and a clearly amused choreographer.

Who only rolled his eyes at the clever remarks, then clapped his hands gaining everyone's attention. "So you are the Warblers... ridiculous name if you ask me, but not really my concern," he started, his smile crooked and there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, that caused Blaine to gulp nervously. "My name is Harry Potter, you can call me Harry, Potter or Master. But lame joke aside, from now on we will work together whenever you have a new song to sing on the show. As you could see, I'm cruel and a right bastard, but I'm not a bully and I don't tolerate any form of harassment here–"

"Eh, sorry, but you just said you're cruel and you right as hell told pretty awful things to those girls," one of Blaine's fellow Warblers interrupted.

"You don't like something I say, you fight back. I will call you many things, curse at you, fuck, maybe even threaten your life, but, and this is something you have to understand, it's nothing personal. I don't know you yet, but you can ask the chicks or the guys from ND, we are actually friends," Harry answered and there was no trace of irritation in his tone which honestly surprised Blaine. "You'll soon realize that the choreographers, costume designers, make-up artists and all the lot that has nothing to do with the actual filming are the best confidants in this place. So to finish this embarrassingly girly moment; if you have some problem whatever it is, you can always call me or seek me out."

Blaine stared at the young man, who, now that he could concentrate on more than the very attractive body before him, didn't seem that much older than him. Maybe a year or two, but he was sure four topped it. Harry had an angular face, all high cheekbones and defined lines with plump but not girly pale lips and big eyes to soften the whole picture, not to mention the messy mop of raven hair that almost hung into the man's eyes. He looked tall, but actually wasn't really and as the Warblers stood up Blaine had noted with interest that actually Harry was even a bit smaller than his own 5'8".

"So I can even stalk you on Facebook and you won't file a restraining order against me?" another boy, this time the only Asian in the group, asked, waggling his eyebrows grinning cheekily.

"I don't use Facebook, but considering the revelation of your stalkerish nature, I'm having second thoughts about giving you my number," Harry countered, mocking fear showing on his face. "However, niceties are over," he continued, crossing his lightly tanned arms in front of his wife-beater covered chest. "We start with some warming ups even though you are the least acrobatic mass I have to work with."


	2. Ep02

**_A/N: _**Thanks for the ads and reviews, you rock! Hope you'll like this one too! *grin*

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**Ep. 2 – Those are your f***ing hips, use them!**

Every inch of Blaine's body hurt. His arms felt like they weighted a tonne, but of course the blasted alarm just had to go off at that moment, screaming at him to get up and get ready for the day, yet another torture session with the Devil himself.

Harry Potter, the otherwise innocent looking and not to mention gorgeous choreographer, was pure evil and had a vicious mouth on him. Blaine groaned pitifully at the memory of the scathing jibes and curses that was thrown at them for being such incompetent losers after blotching up the actually ridiculously hard choreography for the tenth time in a row.

Blaine tried to not take it personally, because the words themselves weren't actually degrading them in any way; Harry didn't call them cruel names or intended to humiliate them, but still the words caught him unaware and tore into him deeper than Blaine would have wanted to admit.

'_Maybe I'll get used to it,'_ he mused, attempting to put his arm over his eyes, ignoring the blaring Katy Perry song that was trying to rouse any reaction from him, but he only managed a pathetic twitch and a painful yelp, as his muscles burned from exhaustion and over-usage. "Shit."

He had no idea how he was going to do the routines with paralyzed limbs. But more importantly, how would he get out from his bed? Especially because his bladder was killing him, causing him to curse his need to drink an entire jug of water during the night. Why couldn't he sleep through the night like any normal person would? But at the thought of water his bladder screamed at him again and with a low, pitiful moan he managed to sit up on his second try.

Mere half an hour later, after a trip to the bathroom and a long relaxing shower, Blaine was somewhat more awake and even half dressed in baggy blue sweatpants with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. The fatigue-fever was nowhere around the bearable level, unfortunately he didn't have the luxury to stay at home and nurse his invisible wounds, because practice started in an hour.

Studio 6 was buzzing with life as he walked through the halls, avoiding collisions with the industrial sized dress racks and hyperactive backstage workers and assistants. The door of P. Hall 11 was half open when he got there and some of the other Warblers were already stretching or just chatting, waiting for Harry and the others.

"Hi ya, Blaine!" Wes, the Asian boy with stalker tendencies greeted him with a rakish grin, waving him over to his small group of friends, namely David, Thad and Bailey who were also smiling at him. "So are you about to die from overly straining muscles too?"

"I think I actually died last night and I'm in hell." Blaine answered pumping fists with them before turning back to Wes. The others snickered.

"Yes and the Devil decided to make us his personal bitches," Bailey groaned, then glared at Thad who slapped him on the back in sympathy.

"I feel like my legs are falling off and actually I'm used to working out three times a week," David muttered, rubbing his neck with a grimace. "And I think my neck is actually cramped for good."

"Which only proves that you lot are nothing more than a bunch of ridiculous clowns." Blaine did _not _scream when that hot breath wafted over the back of his neck.

"Holy shit! Don't sneak up on people, man! You'll give us a heart attack or something!" Wes exclaimed, his almond shaped eyes comically wide.

"Constant vigilance!" Blaine and the others just stared at the man who was still standing mere inches from him. "Inner joke, sorry," Harry added with a sheepish grin, his vivid eyes darkening for a moment, before his expression turned downright sinister and Blaine had to squelch down the urge to step back and hide behind Bailey who had the broadest shoulder of their group.

"Sorry for the question, but you're kinda insane, aren't you?" David asked, blinking owlishly earning horrified glances from his friends. Blaine was rendered speechless and was sure, that the choreographer would kill them any minute now...

But then Harry started to speak and his tone was light and teasing. "What did you think? That a sane person would put up with your lack of talent and coordination skill? What you really thought that?" he snorted misunderstanding the dumbfounded silence that swept through the whole room.

Did the man have multiple personality disorder or was he simply bipolar? Blaine wondered, trying to regain his composure that decided to take a vacation when he saw that sweet smile. Not that he would ever say it aloud that he found Harry's smile sweet, because he wasn't suicidal, even if his ex-classmates and bullies thought otherwise.

And as if he wanted to prove Blaine's point, the amused smile disappeared from Harry's face giving its place to irritation. "Whatever," the choreographer muttered with a frown, his whole attitude taking a one-eighty turn. "Why the hell aren't you in formation?"

Blaine cringed, but obeyed the harsh command and tried to prepare himself. Without success. The man was simply lethal, bitching and cursing, picking on them mercilessly no matter how hard they tried. "What are you a herd of brainless droids? Do you want me to pull that fucking pole out of your asses or will you do it for yourselves and start use your fucking hips?"

That hurt. Blaine felt as his face heated up in pure mortification, and although he couldn't see his colleagues, he guessed they were equally embarrassed. For goodness' sake, he didn't even know how to dance! What did Potter expected? However, before he could explode and snap back at the cruel bastard, long fingers curled around his hipbones, squeezing them.

"These are your fucking hips, use them," the man growled into his ear and a very unintentional shiver run down Blaine's spine.

In the mirror he could see that Harry's lips were mere inches from his earlobe, green eyes flashing with annoyance and instead of letting him go, those fingers tightened their hold, ripping a barely audible gasp from Blaine, before they started to guide his hips in a languid motion, rolling and swaying in ways he had never thought were possible.

"Like this, good boy." And with that he was left alone to stare at his very red face in the mirror, trying to figure out what had just happened.


	3. Ep03

**Ep.03 – New Kid****s, Meet Kurt Hummel**

This was it. The official first meeting with one of the original cast members, and Blaine felt like he could faint from the tension and terror that was coursing through his body. Wes and David were standing next to him with matching strained grins on their faces, showing their own nervousness. These guys were stars, known all over America and even in Europe, while Blaine was just some Internet musician and actor-wannabe, nothing significant.

At least his bloody curls were regulated by a large blob of gel and other hair products, and he silently thanked the hair dresser for her understanding. His skin crawled from the amount of foundation the make-up artist put onto it in attempt of getting rid of any imperfection and the shadow of his stubble that was already showing even though he shaved mere hours before. The uniform was at least his size, although uncomfortable and restricting, but he was to play the role of a prep-school boy who run away from the bullying and found his place in a prestigious private school.

As if something like that could have ever happened to him in real life, he snorted inwardly. Leaving with your gram, because your loving parents wanted to do nothing with you after finding out you were gay was closer to the truth. At least the bullying in high school wasn't completely unbearable, or more likely he had to put up with it, because there was no way out like it had been for Darren, his character.

But there was no need to lament about the past. It was over after all and Blaine was here, in Los Angeles, ready to start his first ever shoot. And on the upside there was no more dance practice for a while as they finally learned the choreography... well they didn't bump into each other or tripped over their own feet anymore, which probably was the best they could do with their lack of coordination skills, or so Harry said after their last practice.

Blaine was pulled back from his musing by the approaching figure. The scene was already set up in the atrium of the building that was chosen to give place of Dalton, technicians wandered around talking into their headsets or shouting instructions while Blaine and his friends were told to wait while the director and the assistants talked with the additional Dalton cast. The figure in question was already wearing his costume, a dark overcoat that was a poor resemblance of the Dalton jacket and Blaine and tight trousers that looked even less comfortable than their gray slacks.

There was no question who the boy was, after al he had been the centre of Blaine's obsession for the last year, and now that he was standing in front of him, Blaine had to realise, he was more beautiful up close than he had been on screen.

"Hello, you must be Blaine, Wes and David!" the boy smiled warmly, but a spark of haughtiness still gleamed in his blue-green eyes. "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Oh, we know!" Wes stepped forward, grinning broadly, shaking the offered hand. "You're tha male HBiC in that house, huh?"

"You bet, I'm prep-boy," Kurt winked, then shook hands with David too before turning to Blaine. "So, you'll be my personal Yoda?"

Blaine couldn't help but chuckle, even though a blush was already staining his cheeks. "It'd seem so. I'm Blaine."

"Don't I know? I'm actually a fan of your fan made musicals," the light haired teen smiled. "Although your hair was atrocious, if you don't mind me saying," he added, nose scrunching up in distaste.

"They chopped it off for my role," Blaine shrugged awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.

"Thank goodness for it! I don't think I could have ever taken you seriously if you had showed up with those disaster curls all around your head!" Kurt exclaimed causing Wes and David to laugh and Blaine to blush once again.

"Gee, thanks. For your information, I liked my curls. They made me look unique," he grumbled, feeling some of the tension dissolve.

"If you tell this yourself enough, someone might start to believe you," David said, snickering. "Dude, I saw some of your pics, you looked like a dork."

"Good, pick on me some more, would you?"

"Our pleasure!" Wes cackled, just when one of the assistant directors arrived to ask them to take their positions, Blaine and Kurt on the stairs, Wes and David in the commons.

Maybe this wasn't going to be too hard after all.

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_**A/N:** Again, thanks for the reviews and adds it made my day *grin* I hope you liked this chapter too_


	4. Ep04

**_A/N: _**_I want to say a few things about this drabble; it's nothing serious or significant, but I'd like to clear a few things. First of all, Dave Karofsky will sound OOC, but if we want to be realistic, there is no studio that would employ a cruel and violent actor that threatens his coworkers' lives. So that is why I changed things and not because I have a liking to Karofsky character, because - while I can see some of the point of his fears and anger (being confused is never healthy), I wholeheartedly resent bullies - I really don't. The second thing, Harry might seem harsh and a bit crude, but in reality he has a heart of gold and tries to help Blaine without even really knowing him. There are reasons for his drastical change of attitude compared to canon, but that won't be revealed here... maybe in the sequel if I ever write one *grin* And lastly I want to wish Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it today and I hope you'll get the presents you wished for! _

_I got them through your hitting the story, reviews and adds. You are wonderful guys!_

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**Ep.04 –**** This Isn't a Date**

Meeting with Dave Karofsky, who played the role of a closeted gay bully was something Blaine wasn't looking forward to do. The memories from school were still fresh in his mind and even if Dave was actually a nice guy in real life, his actions hit too close to home for Blaine's comfort.

So, to relieve some of his tensions – or so he hoped it would help – he was sitting in a cafe not far from the studio, waiting for the very person he would have never thought to ask for advice, if it hadn't been the man's blatant offer on their first meeting. Of course Blaine knew he was being ridiculous, because Dave was just as much of an actor as he was, but still he couldn't help but be somewhat cautious about him. For God's sake, the guy was huge! Not huge like Finn Hudson, the goofy boy who played one of the lead roles, but _huge_ huge, like a mean mountain, that could snap Blaine in two any moment he wanted.

"You'll get premature wrinkles if you continue to frown like that," came the offhanded comment from his left and Blaine jumped in shock, slamming his knee into the table leg. Couldn't the blasted jerk at least make some noise? "Aren't we jumpy, today?" Harry raised an eyebrow at him and he had to bit his lips not to answer with some very nasty profanities; the evil choreographer was doing him a favour by being there after all.

"Could you at least warn me next time? Wes's right, if you keep this ghost-wandering up, someone will have a heart attack," Blaine said instead of answering the question.

"Well if you hadn't been daydreaming, you would have noticed my arrival," Harry shrugged, totally unperturbed, sliding into the booth gracefully. "So what's the problem? Unrequited love? Friendly quarrels with the bitches, namely Santana and Rachel? Or do you have problem with becoming famous?"

Before could have answered the waitress appeared next to their table, smiling flirtily at Harry, batting her lashes while waiting for him to order. "Just some tea. And please, make sure none of your body parts falls into my cup," the man said making the girl blush and scurry away. "So?" Blaine refrained from gaping at his companion. Barely.

"It's nothing–"

"So this is actually a date?" Harry asked, raising a sardonic eyebrow. "You should have told me beforehand, I would have dressed up and everything."

"No, this isn't a date." Though the idea of dating the gorgeous choreographer made Blaine flustered. "I... just didn't know who to talk to."

"Well, I obviously offered my services as being your shrink or whatever you need me for," Harry nodded, smiling a friendly smile.

"It's about Dave." At the other's confused expression he added, "Karofsky."

"Oh, Davie! He is an utter complete disaster when it comes to dancing! I would know, I had to teach the whole football crew how to dance to that epic Single Ladies routine," Harry snickered, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, what about the brutish fool?"

"Imafraidofmeetinghim," Blaine blurted out earning a flabbergasted look from his companion.

"Excuse me?"

"I... kinda afraid of meeting the guy..." he murmured, studiously staring at the tabletop.

"Ah," was everything Harry said.

The waitress came back and put the cup of tea in front of Harry, that blush still on her face, but the choreographer dismissed her without a second glance, his gaze resting on Blaine, scrutinizing never wavering.

"You'll be okay. He's actually a very decent guy, if you ignore his pathetic skills in dancing and somewhat lame sense of humour," Harry said after taking a sip of his drink. "He's not like his character at all, I can assure you. More like an overgrown puppy, so you have nothing to worry about."

A very familiar long fingered hand found its way toward Blaine's that was clenching around his cup of latte, squeezing his fingers reassuringly and he couldn't help, but look up into those striking green eyes that, he swore, could see into his soul, no matter how ridiculously cheesy that sounded.

"You'll do alright and if not, I can always murder Dave without a trace. No one will find his body." Harry winked at him and he just burst out in laughter, imagining as the slight choreographer beat the hulkish Karofsky up.

"Thanks, I needed that," Blaine replied with a relieved smile.

"Any time," Harry grinned, patting his hand once again, before pulling back. Blaine would never say it aloud, but missed the contact. "By the way, your routine for sectionals is almost ready. I'm sure you will love it."

Blaine groaned in despair at the upcoming week of pure hell.

Why did he auditioned for a role in a musical?


	5. Ep05

Hey guys,

I wanted to update earlier but with all of the packing I had to do I completely have forgotten it, so sorry. And I have another bad news too. Tomorrow I'm going on a week long trip with my family and I won't be able to update *mournful sigh* However I WON'T abandon this series and I'll be back on the 4th of January, so stay tuned. On a more positive note, if you're interested in my unpublished works you can visit my Yahoo Group: http : / / groups . yahoo . com / group / lilithduvare

Have a good time and Happy New Year!

Lilith

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**Ep.05 – We are just friends!**

"You are being ridiculous," Kurt said, rolling his eyes exasperation. "It has been only two hours."

"More like three and a half. Without stopping. I'm ready to drop," Blaine answered, trying to take a hold of his heavy breathing while balancing the tons of bags in his hands.

They were in the nearest mall on a shopping spree, because Blaine was naive enough to believe Kurt when he said it would be just a quick "pick up". Obviously with his friend it meant running in and out of shops and trying on as much clothes as they could only to buy not even ten percent of the mountain of drags.

"You are such a cry-baby," Kurt taunted, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"And you are insane."

"Insanely talented. Oh, look! There is a sale at Armani!" Blaine groaned in resignation and even thought about stomping his foot to show his annoyance.

"This is getting ridiculous. You could never wear so many clothes." This earned him an "are you retarded?" look to which he only stuck out his tongue childishly.

Kurt raised his eyes to the sky. "What did I expect, honestly? He had loved his revolting fizzy hair for crying out loud!" he muttered to no one in general, but it didn't prevent Blaine to hear it.

"Now who is the ridiculous one?" he grumbled, attempting to cross his arms in front of his chest before realizing that there were too many bags in his hand to succeed.

"Obviously you, oh great Yoda," came the sarcastic reply. "Or should I call you Frodo? With all that curly hair?"

"Why are we friends, again?"

However, before Kurt could answer a sharp scream tore through the air and the next moment they were surrounded by at least a dozen teenaged girls all of them squealing and chatting away a mile a minute. Blaine's eyes widened in shock and tried to take a step back, but his back met with solid glass of the Armani shop leaving him no route to escape.

"Oh my God, it's Kurt Hummel!"

"And Blaine Wilson!"

"You are so hot!

"Please sign my bag!"

"And my hand!"

"My breasts!"

This wasn't happening. This was just some kind of nightmare or something, right? He appeared on screen only a week ago! There was just no chance anyone could recognize him! Blaine chanced a desperate glance at Kurt whose smile was strained, but was already pulling out a pen of the pocket of his jacket, ready to give the mob of girls what they wanted.

"What is your favourite colour, Blaine?"

"Is it true that you have a crush on someone on stage?"

"Don't be daft! Don't you see that the two of them are together?"

What? He felt his eyes widening even more at the suggestion. Sure, before he met Kurt, he had a giant fancrush on the boy and was totally obsessed with his character, but no matter how cute his friend was they were just that. Friends. Like he was with Wes, David, Thad and the other Warblers.

"Um, no we're not together, sorry," Blaine spoke up finally. "We're just friends."

The girls just giggled in a totally non-believing manner, sparkling eyes staring at Blaine and next to him Kurt grinned too. "It's true ladies, Blaine and I are just friends, no sweet boyish romance here. But... I tell you a secret. Blaine is totally crushing on someone at the moment."

"What?" Blaine exclaimed, but his voice was nothing compared to the overexcited squeals that left the fangirls' mouths, which in turn only gained even more people's attention. Just great.

This shouldn't have been like this. Not at all. Blaine knew that there were people who liked his music and the clubs were always crowded when he and his friends played, but this was insane. No one ever stopped him on the street – or in the mall for that matter – before, and even if he was grateful for the obvious devotion they were showing he wasn't sure he liked the absolute crowd that was invading his personal space.

But maybe it was the price of becoming famous.


	6. Ep06

**_A/N: _**Hey there guys,

I'm back from my holiday and I hope you'll enjoy the newest chapter two. You're so great, Finding out this story has 27 alerst and more than 1K hits just made my day especially after I have two one-shots without happy ends when both of them started out much differently *sigh* Well that's my problem and I find them better this way, but still...

Now I'm finished with my boring rambling, I hope you'll like this chapter too!

Cheers,

Lilith

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**Ep.06 ****– Breadstikks**

"So I heard you are having a crisis?" Blaine looked at Mercedes who was seated across from him.

They were about to shoot the not-date scene at Breadstix and Mercedes, Kurt and Blaine were waiting for the technicians to finish their work. Kurt was sitting next to him, giggling at Blaine's horrified expression, and it seemed this was going to be one hell of a filming session. Not to mention Blaine had no intention of talking about his _nonexistent_ crisis with the dark skinned girl.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he tried to mime Kurt's haughty tone, but was failing if his friends' snickers was anything to go by.

"Sure you don't, white boy." She smirked knowingly, but Blaine was stubborn and only pressed his lips together in irritation, glaring at Kurt accusingly.

"Oh no, Mister, it has nothing to do with me!"

"Oh but I think it does!" Blaine growled. "If it wasn't for you, the tabloids and the Internet wouldn't be full of my mysterious crush!"

"But you do have a crush," Mercedes piped in with a sly curl of her lips. "Don't even try to deny it. You have the hots for our dear, sadistic bastard of a choreographer."

"I do not."

"Please, boy, everyone can see the stars in your eyes whenever you two are in the same room," she sneered in answer and Blaine buried his head in his hands.

"Yes, I admit, Harry is very attractive–"

"More like smoking hot," Kurt cut in, examining his nails in boredom. "That guy is sex on legs, everyone knows this. Santana was trying to get into his pants since their first meeting, without success of course."

"Yeah, she is so desperate that's almost painful. Doesn't even care that Harry is openly Team Gay," Mercedes added with a little shake of her head.

"I heard her propositioning him on my first day. Is she really that blatant?" Blaine asked, trying to steer the topic onto safer waters.

"You have no idea," Kurt grinned. "She's the Head Bitch of the Cast and I have the inclination to say, she is also a nymphomaniac."

"At least she's not a blasted diva like Rachel," Mercedes said, frowning in disgust. "That girl's just asking for me to cut her."

"Um... She was somewhat nice of me, when we met the other day in the cafeteria," Blaine murmured, glancing at the other two sheepishly.

"Sure, she is a nice girl." Kurt waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "We are... friends, after all, but her selfishness and constant need to be the centre of attention is more than annoying and disturbing."

"Not to mention her repulsingly sweet romance with Finn. All those pet names and sickening looks make me want to throw up."

"At least, she has a better fashion sense in real life than on stage. Honestly, I just want to sink my claws into those animal sweaters and burn them to embers!"

Blaine bit back a sigh. Here they were again, fashion. After that fiasco at the mall a week ago, he promised to never set his foot into the building with Kurt again. His friend basked in the attention and lapped up all the adoration, chatting up the girls and women who crowded around them and even managed to talk Blaine into giving an impromptu little concert for their audience... in front of the Armani shop, before he promptly grabbed Blaine's hand and with a charming smile dragged him into the shop and continued his madness, trying on countless outfits for another two hours.

He thought Harry's lessons were downright hellish, well Kurt Hummel made him rethink that. And the fact he had to drag his own mass amount of new clothes – "You're in a serious need of a make over!" Kurt said, shoving pants and shirts into his hand and ordering him to try them on – up to his little, cosy apartment then he had to put them away too which was another hour of wasted time something he could have spent by writing new songs or playing World of Warcraft or watching The Lord of the Rings.

"Blaine... Blaine!"

"Yes?" He asked, blinking in confusion.

"Mercedes was asking what are your plans considering a certain gorgeous choreographer," Kurt said, his glasz eyes, Blaine googled the colour, flashing mischievously. "Because we might know that he is actually single at the moment."

"More likely was single ever since the filming started," the black girl cut in.

"I don't have any plans," Blaine grumbled, averting his gaze. There was no chance in hell that he would make a total ass out of himself by asking Harry out only to be shot down.

"Don't be ridiculous! How do you want to get the man, if you don't have a plan?"

He shot a glare at his friend. "I don't want to get the man."

"Of course you do, silly." Mercedes smiled patronizingly and Blaine gritted his teeth. "Just ask him out for a coffee or–"

"No coffee!" Kurt interrupted, a horrified expression adorning his face. "You need something fabulous if you want to win Harry's heart... or at least get into his pants."

"Well, he loves ballet..."

"Boring."

"Musical?"

"He's the choreographer of a musical series, do you think he'd want to see even more?"

"A trip to Disney Land?"

"Mercedes!"

"Don't use that tone with me! You perfectly know that Harry loves Disney!"

Blaine just stared at them, wondering if they had already forgotten he was there. Okay, that idea about Disney Land was nice, he always wanted to go, but never got the chance, however, he didn't think he could ever pull off the invitation without humiliating himself.

"Oh I know!" Kurt exclaimed suddenly. "You have to go and watch his performance tomorrow!"

"Performance?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Harry is part of a dance theatre group that works with unique lighting technology. And have a new show in every month," Mercedes explained.

"They are spectacular!" Kurt added. "And those lights are simply breathtaking."

"What lights?" Blaine started to feel like a ridiculous parrot.

"There are these lights and sparkles surrounding the dancers... it's honestly like magic! Indescribable."

"And you want me to go and watch him?" He had a very bad feeling about this. "I'm not sure, he'd be happy to see me there."

"You're ridiculous. He's always happy to see us, despite his despicable attitude when it comes to teaching us how to dance," Mercedes waved his concerns away. "I'll get your tickets, you just have to go."

Blaine wanted to protest, but that moment the assistant director came up to them telling they're about to start and had no chance to say anything at all.


	7. Ep07

Hey guys,

here is the next chapter! Thanks for the reviews and adds as always they make my day better and as I have free time I even can reply them. Yaay for me! But seriously, I hope you'll like this one too. Enjoy!

* * *

**Ep.07 – Worth Being a Total Moron**

Blaine looked down at the bouquet of Tiger Lily in his hand wondering how Mercedes could get him not only a ticket to the VIP balcony but a pass to backstage too. He could already hear the screaming coming from the backstage door and even got a glimpse of the mass of women trying to get through the mountain-sized guard.

He bit back a groan and tightened his hold on the flowers, readying himself for the upcoming battle. However, before he could even utter the first "Excuse me" a regal looking blond man with an ageless face passed by him and the crowd separated like the Red Sea to Moses' command.

Blaine blinked, not really believing his eyes especially when the guard bowed to the stranger and let him through the door without a question. Unfortunately he didn't have time to linger, the now whispering and giggling fangirls started to flood the tiny corridor once again, so Blaine had to act quickly.

He twisted and slid around the sea of young women, trying to avoid collision with the soft, but forceful bodies and recognition by the obsession filled eyes and after a few minutes of silent struggling he finally reached the scowling giant who looked at him like he was some kind of slug under the man's feet.

"What?" the guard barked, thin lips pressed together threateningly.

"I have a pass," Blaine answered, determined to not show how intimidated he felt. "To backstage."

The bear-like man examined his card for what seemed like hours before he grunted and opened the door. "Hurry up midget, I don't have the whole night."

How nice of you, Blaine wanted to say, but wisely just nodded and passed the beast, sighing in relief when the door finally closed behind him leaving him in utter silence on another, longer and wider corridor with a bunch of doors.

Now where to find Harry?

He walked down the hallway, reading the names on the doors until he reached the one showing off the name of the lead dancer of the show; Harry Potter.

"Finally," Blaine muttered, ready to knock, when he noticed the door was ajar and a moment later the first sounds hit his hears too.

"–I don't know what you expect from me, Lucius." Blaine recognised Harry's voice, but who could this Lucius be? The image of the blond man from earlier flashed into his mind, making his free hand clench into a fist.

"Naturally I want things to go back as they had been before you decided to pull this childish stunt, trying to disappear on me." A part of Blaine wanted to back away and flee, obviously this was a private conversation, not to mention Harry was involved with this man... or at least had been which made Blaine's presence unneeded, yet he stayed put like a love-sick puppy with a masochistic streak, listening in shamelessly.

"Both of us know perfectly well why I left you," Harry countered, his tone laced with venom.

"What if I told you I divorced her?"

"It means nothing anymore, Lucius." The painful grip on Blaine1s heart eased somewhat upon hearing this. "Not to mention you would never sully your newly restored family name with a scandal like this. And I told you this before, I won't be anyone's dirty little secret."

"You had no problem with me being your dirty little secret." Lucius' tone was so cold that it sent chilly shivers down Blaine's spine.

"Don't try to blame this on me!" Harry snapped and Blaine could barely resist the urge to open the door a little more. "You seduced a sixteen-year-old, promising the stars and the moon, and I was desperate enough to fall for your perfect ploy."

"Aren't you the perfect martyr in our little tragedy? If I remember correctly you hadn't exactly resisted my advances."

"I just realised I was gay!"

"That's not even a remotely passable excuse on your part."

"I won't– You know what? I don't care anymore." Suddenly Harry sounded tired. "It happened years ago, both of us gained something... worthwhile from the whole ordeal and for a change I'm actually happy here."

"Wasting your talent and time by playing around with inferior and worthless children with big dreams. Is any of the as good as I was?" Lucius asked cruelly, causing Blaine to bite back a growl.

"Unlike you I don't mix business and fun."

"You mean, not anymore." After a moment of silence the man continued. "I will not beg you."

"No one asks you to do so."

Lucius didn't say anything and suddenly Blaine was filled with dread at being caught. He didn't have many options; he could flee, choosing the coward way out and forgetting he had ever been here – or at least try to forget – or he could take his character's, Darren, advice and have courage, knocking.

His hand rose on its own accord and the soft rapping filled his ears just before the door was wrenched open and the haughty, but beautiful blond man stormed out, silver eyes alit with lightening of rage, not even sparing Blaine a glance.

"Why hello there." His head snapped back toward the doorway so quickly that he was sure he got a whiplash, which in turn caused him to blush. A very casual looking Harry in simple sweatpants and a tank top was leaning against the doorframe, smirking. "This is a most certainly more pleasant surprise than the previous one has been."

"Hey," Blaine managed to breach out, inwardly cursing himself for his awkwardness. "Er... you were great... on the stage I mean... Oh and these are yours... um..." He didn't understand why was he feeling like the poor canary that was mere seconds from being eaten by the very smug cat.

"Thank you for the compliment and the flowers." For a moment those green eyes softened, as Harry caressed the reddish petals. "They are beautiful."

"I'm glad you like them." Man wasn't this awkward! "I just... er... wanted to congratulate and... I think I'll go now..." Blaine murmured, turning away and ready to bolt. He was sure he couldn't have made a bigger fool out of himself if he tried. Honestly what did he expect?

"Hey, Blaine, wait!" Harry seemed taken aback. "I didn't mean to sound unwelcoming or anything, really. And I'm... really glad you came... I was sure the ticket was for Kurt when Mercedes asked... and... I'm rambling sorry." Was Harry really blushing? Blaine marvelled at the twin spots of red on the older boy's cheeks.

"It's okay... you were really... magical, like Kurt said you would be," he answered with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head. "So, cofeewithmenow?"

"Huh?" Blaine flushed at the confused look he received.

"Eh... Coffee? With me? Now?" He wanted to smash his head into the wall, but the pleased smile that appeared on Harry's lips was sure being a total moron.

"Sure!" Harry grinned. "I just need to change, why don1t you come in?"


	8. Ep08

Short chpater, but actually I've been very generous as this is supposed to be a drabble series. Nonetheless thanks for reading and if you're interested check out my newest fic which is a spin-off of **infraredphaeton'**s wonderful SPAHverse series. (http: / / lilith-duvare . livejournal . com / 3533 . html # cutid1)

And join _**daltonacademy**_ on livejournal! (http: / / community . livejournal . com / daltonacademy /)

Cheers,  
Lilith

* * *

**Ep.08 – Smooth Blaine, Really Smooth**

The coffee turned into a full-fledged dinner when upon stepping out of the theatre Harry's stomach decided to make itself known by growling loudly, causing the choreographer to colour slightly in the mild late October night.

"Want to grab a bite before the coffee?" Blaine asked, smothering his chuckle, but still grinning widely, earning a dirty glare. "Hey, I'm being nice here!" he added raising his hands in surrender.

"No you're being an annoying little prat," Harry scowled at his stomach accusingly.

"You're smaller than me," Blaine retorted cheekily, feeling more relaxed now that the other, even if accidentally, showed him he was only human too.

"Keep up this attitude mister, and I'll choose the most expensive dishes from the menu."

"I'm so frightened!"

"As you should be." They smiled at each other and Blaine could feel the butterflies dancing around in his stomach at the light, friendly atmosphere that was surrounding them. "Especially because you're at my mercy as you don't have a car."

"Would you consider sparing my life if I promised I'll be _good_? He widened his eyes pleadingly, ignoring the little voice in his mind that was telling him he was flirting.

Harry snorted in answer, unlocking his car. "Fat chance at that. Now get in, I just know the perfect place where I can eat you out of your wallet."

They went to a Greek restaurant, a place Blaine hadn't seen before, but was instantly enchanted by the homey feeling of the whole building and the smiling waiters and waitresses. Even Harry was in a much lighter mood, giving his orders with a slight smile, making Blaine wonder which could be the real Harry; the bitchy almost unbearable jerk or the sweet friendly guy who joked around and had a really nice smile?

"What?" Harry asked, his tone defensive.

"You have a beautiful smile." Blaine's face heated up the moment he realized what he said and he wished he could die from the mortification he felt.

"Erm... thanks." Harry's face was red too for some reason. "And of course I have an elfin face and the most soulful eyes you've ever seen," he joked with a fake saucy grin.

Blaine forced out a laugh, clenching down on the pain he felt from the nonchalance the older boy handled his compliment with. "Sure," he squeezed out, his smile as fake as it came. "And the reddest, most luscious lips too."

Harry winked and changed the topic. "So how did that meeting with Davie go in the end? I see you're still in one piece..."

"He was nice, even invited me out for a drink," Blaine shrugged. "We talked about the challenges of our roles."

"I told you he's an okay guy," Harry grinned, raising a forkful of salad to his lips, but instead of biting down on it, his smile turned downright devious, making Blaine nervous. "So, a little birdie told me about you having a crush on someone from the cast." He leaned forward curiously, even putting down his fork, but something flashed deep in those green eyes, or maybe it was just Blaine's wistful thinking. "Care to elaborate?"

"There is nothing to tell," he said, gaze fixed on his own meal, grilled chicken with salad and some kind of white sauce.

"Come one! The paper was full of this sweet, mysterious puppy-romance you have!" Harry exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "And I thought we're friends."

"We are..." Blaine mumbled still not looking at the other.

"Then spill!"

"There is really nothing. Kurt was just being his usual jerky self, spouting of a wagon of nonsense about my nonexistent love life."

"So you don't have a secret crush?" Harry's smile brightened and waned at the same time, something that should have been impossible, but obviously wasn't.

"Sorry to disappoint," Blaine muttered mockingly. "Why don't you tell me about the tall and gorgeous blond that almost knocked off my feet upon leaving?" Smooth Blaine, really smooth, he cursed himself as he saw the smile melting from his companion's face. The perfect way to ruin the night, by acting like a jealous bitch. He was just a genius.

But Harry surprised him once again. "I think it's only fair considering I pestered you about this mystery guy," he sighed ignoring Blaine's muttered "There is no mystery guy."

"You don't have to tell me." Blaine hurried to assure him and Harry smiled sadly at him.

"There is nothing to tell, really. He was no one significant," the young choreographer said at the same time. "Just the proof that I've been foolish and naive once." His smile was bitter by now and Blaine decided to never Lucius up again.

"Why don't you tell me about our upcoming torture session?" he said with feigned dread in his voice, but Harry's soft laugh was worth it.


	9. Ep09

Hey, here is next chapter, but I'm not sure there will be one tomorrow. It's nothing petty like I'm witholding it because you don't review or sg even if I'm a bit sad about the lack of response, but that's life alright. No, I'm going to a party tomorrow (or so I think I'm going, but not 100% sure yet) and won't have time to update. I hope you understand and like this chapter *grin*

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**Ep.09 – Coffee Between Friends**

Next day Blaine was cornered by a pair of vultures before he could even open the door of the Warblers' changing room.

"So how was it?"

"Did he like the flowers?"

"Of course he liked the flowers, Cedes, they are his favourites! The question is how has he expressed his gratefulness."

"Never knew you had such a dirty mind."

"There are many things you don't know about me, my dear."

"Whatever, white boy. We have more important things to concentrate on, like did Blaine kiss our snarky hot piece of ass choreographer or was he a chicken and let the perfect opportunity slide?"

"Would you pull your minds out of the gutter?" Blaine growled, having enough of the one – or more likely two – sided conversation where his friends totally forgot he existed while talking about his not even real escapades with his crush. "Both of you." He crossed his arms defensively in front of his chest.

"Don't need to bite our head off," Kurt sniffed arrogantly. "We did you a favour. A great one at that."

"So the least you could do is sharing all the juicy details with us," Mercedes added.

"I'm not telling you anything, because there is nothing to tell."

"So in simple words you were been a damned chicken and didn't even use the backstage pass?" Kurt's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Backstage pass? What backstage pass?" Blaine hid his face in his hands; just what he needed, the ever nosey and overly curious Wes and David's appearance.

"Who got a backstage pass and where?" David asked, tilting his head like and over-eager puppy.

"Blaine," Mercedes replied. "But he was an idiot and didn't use it."

"I used it, okay?" Blaine snapped. "Yes, I used the blasted thing and met him after the show and–"

"Ohoho, _him_? Wes interrupted waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Aren't you forgetting to tell us something Blainey-Pooh?"

"Don't call me on that despicable name," Blaine snarled, but none of them were listening.

"Blainey-Bear got himself a bf!" David gushed in a fake fangirlish tone. "So what the papers've been telling is actually true?"

"I'm deeply hurt Blaine. I'm seriously and utterly wounded that I had to learn about your newest conquest from the tabloids instead of you," Wes sighed mournfully, his almond eyes full of hurt.

"Would you two impossible clowns kindly shut up?" Blaine scowled furiously. "I don't have a boyfriend or conquest!" Then he turned to the smirking Kurt and Mercedes. "Yes, I used the damned card and met him after the show and I even asked him out for a goddamned coffee between friends! Friends!"

"Don't need to scream at us just because you're too lame to ask him out for real," Kurt sneered.

"Yeah, boy, you seriously need to get your game on... if you have any at all, that's it," the only girl in the group reprimanded with a more than frightening bitch expression on her face.

"Which he doesn't if you ask us," Wes piped in, ducking when Blaine tried to hit him with his bag. "Oi! Don't need to get aggressive!"

"Shut up! I don't want to rush things, okay? Not to mention he doesn't see me like that." His friends groaned.

"Keep telling that to yourself and you'll totally miss your chance."

"Kurt is right B-boy, you have to stop being such a bloody pansy and sweep off this mystery man–"

"Who doesn't exist of course."

"–off his feet already!" Wes finished ignoring David's interruption.

"Btw, who is this imaginary mystery guy?" David asked, grinning like a loon.

"You _don't_ want to know," Blaine said, glaring at his fellow Warblers.

"Oh, but I think we definitely do!" Wes flashed a Cheshire grin. "Merce dear?"

"Mercedes you wouldn't..."

"Oh, but I think I would. You need all the help you can get," the girl smiled sweetly an evil glint flashing in her eyes.

"Tell! Tell! Tell! Tell!" the two Dalton boys chanted eagerly, leaning closer to Mercedes and a superior smirk wearing Kurt.

"It's–" Fortunately for Blaine the door of the dressing room was opened that moment, preventing Mercedes from ratting him out.

"Hey what are you guys doing here? Practice is about to start," Thad said furrowing his brows in confusion and Blaine could have kissed him for his timing especially when Wes and David groaned in disappointment.

"Don't think we won't find out, Blainey-Pooh," Wes waggled his forefinger threateningly.

"Yeah, B-bear, you never stood a chance against the Dynamite Duo!" David added pointing at himself and the Asian boy next to him smugly, earning incredulous looks from the group.

"Okay, Lameass Duo, move your sloppy behinds, because we don't wand a certain PMS-ing choreographer to rip us several new holes," Kurt spoke up, pushing his protesting team mates into the room. "Later, Cedes!" The door was closed with a slam.


	10. Ep10

A/N: Hey guys,

sorry for the delay, I was in a studying frenzy, but my exams are over and now I can concentrate fully on writing *grin* Hope you'll like this chapter and thanks for the reviews, hits, favs and alerts. They mean much to me, you guys rock! Especially because it'd seem that HP/Glee crossovers aren't that popular yet. I don't know why, but I hope it'll change with time. So, if you have any ambition of writing any HP/Glee fic with any pairing (okay be it SLASH) please tell me, because I'm a fan and would like to read them so much. *hopeful looks*

Now finishing my ramblings. Have fun while reading this!

Cheers,  
Lilith

* * *

**Ep.10 – Like On a Date?**

No, you goddamned, fuckwitted, peanut-brained little cretins! You don't gallop to the left like a horde of rabid gazelles! It's _step_ left, cross right, _step _left! Not jump, cross, jump, fall!" Harry screamed and the whole group flinched, trying to catch their breaths. "And you Hummel! I know that you're more talented than all of the misfitted morons together on a good day, but you're the fucking new guy of the Twittering Trolls here!"

"Well excuse me for being better than others and learning moves more easily!" Kurt snipped back indignantly. "And maybe, just maybe, if you toned down your weekly PMS session, they might learn the routine too."

Blaine stared at his friend in horrified wonder; sure Harry was being a supermegafoxybitch, but to talk back t him like that wouldn't solve anything.

"Why don't you teach them yourself then? Show them what makes you so superior compared to them, while I attempt to show Anderson here how to prance around and use his arms at the same time," came the no less acerbic reply. "Come Anderson."

Blaine caught the cheeky smirk sent in his direction by Kurt before walked over to their choreographer who was standing in front of the mirror wall running a hand through his hair in an agitated manner.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, putting a hopefully comforting hand on the other's shoulder.

"Peachy, isn't it obvious?" Harry growled, then closed his eyes and sighed. "Sorry, had a shitty night." It was true. If Blaine wanted to be honest, the slightly sunken cheeks and dark circles under those dulled green eyes were kind of telling, and he felt like an idiot for not noticing the signs sooner. "Fuck, I'm useless..."

"It's okay," Blaine murmured softly. "We still have two weeks to learn the moves and synchronize them."

"You know that's not a very comforting thought, but thanks." Harry's smile was strained, but at least it wasn't a scowl. "But now enough of the whining, we don't have all day. So stand back and try to follow, we still have an hour before ND arrives. And unlike with you, I have one hell of a routing to grill into them."

Harry still bitched and scowled, but at least tried to tone down the cursing and snapping even when Blaine had difficulty learning a particular combination. Instead he stepped behind Blaine and guided him through the move repeating until it worked; it really wasn't Harry's fault that the suddenly very alive and fluttery butterflies in Blaine's stomach decided to choreography their own dance, whenever their hands touched, distracting him constantly.

"It's still disastrous, but even I'm not sadistic enough to totally break you. What would I do with a bunch of crippled slaves?" Harry dismissed them with a frown-y smirk at the end of the session, looking even more tired than an hour ago.

The Warblers sighed in relief, not questioning why can they get out of the hell someone dared to call practice half an hour early. They just grabbed their things and hurried out of the room, grumbling about being drenched in sweat and killing muscles.

"You should ask him." Blaine of course didn't jump into the air when Kurt breathed into his ear from behind.

He turned his head toward his friend, his brows furrowed. "What?"

"To our movie night." Kurt rolled his eyes. "Ask him." And before Blaine could have answered he was out of the door, leaving him alone with their clearly exhausted and irritated tutor.

He glanced at the other man, who was towelling his head and face, biting his lower lip in indecision, yet still took a few steps closer. "Um..." Harry looked up, confusion flashing in his eyes. "I was wondering... if you'd like to go out tonight?"

"Go out? Like on a date?"

The so hated _"I don't mix work and fun."_ flashed in Blaine's mind immediately, causing him to quickly shake his head. "No, of course not!" he denied hastily.

"Oh." Had Harry sounded disappointed just now? Surely not.

"It's not even really an outing, just a movie night at my place with Kurt and some of the Warblers. We order some take-out and watch our favourite movies," Blaine continued, putting on his best begging look for the older boy who raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Kurt, huh?"

What? Blaine wanted to ask, not really understanding the nature of the question, but instead of making an even bigger fool of himself he just nodded. "Yeah and Wes, David, Thad and Lynn. Mercedes wanted to come too, but some family emergency came up so it'll be an All Boy Party."

"And you want me to come too." Harry's expression was dubious.

"Of course! You're my friend, aren't you?"

"That I am."

"Which means you must come."

"Well, if it's obligatory, I can't really say no, can I?" Harry smirked mischievously.

"I don't accept no as an answer, sorry." Blaine grinned back, feeling lightheaded.

"Then I have no other choice but bless you with my presence. Feel absolutely honoured."

"Sweet! I mean, I'm absolutely flattered you accepted my humble invitation," he added, blushing at his over-enthusiasm, but his smile almost split his face in half.

"Okay, Pluto, tone down the tail waggling and give me your address," Harry chuckled in amusement, causing Blaine to flush even more and quickly type his address into the other's phone.

"Here. We start at eight. Don't need to bring anything."

"Sure. I'll be there. Now hurry up, New Directions are coming in a few."

Blaine grinned once more and run out of the room; he had a lot f cleaning to do... even if it wasn't a date. But not even that little detail could wane his good mood. Harry was coming over!


	11. Ep11

Hey guys,

here is next chapter, now that I finally finished typing Ch12 down. It totally turned out differently than I wanted, but well, things happens and characters go crazy *shrugs*

If you're ineterested about my rambling about my writing check out me on **Tumblr: lilithduvare . tumblr . com **Sometimes I even put in a short movie review too, if it particlurarly interested or pissed me off, but I mostly rant about my stories.

But I'm finished with the boring A/N, hope you'll like this little one too.

Cheers,  
Lilith

* * *

**Ep.11**** – Just a Brush of Fingers**

The living room was totally dark aside from the flashing lights the muted TV gave off. Bodies were scattered all over the floor; Wes' head was pillowed on David's stomach while the Asian boy's thighs were used as snugglies by a not so discretely snoring and drooling Thad. Lynn was curled up in one of the cushy armchairs and Bailey, who decided to tag along in the end, was lying in front of said armchair, arms and legs thrown apart like some kind of weird spider.

Blaine had no idea when the simple movie night between fellow Warblers and friends turned into a full-fledged sleepover, but he couldn't find it in him to mind and of course it had absolutely nothing to do with a certain raven-haired, green-eyed choreographer being snuggled up against his neck causing tiny puffs of air to waft over the sensitive skin.

"Aren't you two the sweetest thing I've seen since that candy empowered Katy Perry video you seem to like so disgustingly much?" Kurt, the only other person awake, taunted him in a soft tone. "I really ought to take pictures and send them to Merce..."

"Don't you dare," Blaine hissed, is arm instinctively tightening its hold around the lithe body next to him.

"Don't be daft, of course I won't do it," Kurt huffed in mock offence. "Although you really need to make a move, _soon_."

"Look, it's not going to happen, okay?" Blaine wished his voice didn't sound so dejected.

"Of course it's not going to happen if you don't do anything to make it happen!"

"No, Kurt, leave it, would you?" he argued, thinking about the overheard conversation for at least the millionth time in two days. "I'm serious."

"You can't give up without even trying!" Blaine quickly looked down at Harry, fearing that the almost loud shrill of his friend's voice woke him up, but the choreographer's breathing remained even, his eyes closed. "Sorry about that, but my statement still stands."

"He said it himself, okay?"

"What? When? Why haven't you told me about this?"

"I overheard," at the raised eyebrow he just shrugged, "well I kind of did. I wanted to leave, but in the end just couldn't. Anyway, he was talking to his ex... lover – I would never dare to call that man anyone's boyfriend, I mean, you would have fallen in love with him and his perfectly tailored clothes at first sight, not to mention he was thousand times more gorgeous and just... totally–"

"I actually don't care at the moment, although it's a bit of a mystery how did you see this _lover_, when you were listening in on a conversation through a closed door?"

"_Ex_-lover." For some reason it felt necessary to emphasis on the fact that Lucius was now only part of Harry's past, like Harry had said him. "And he almost knocked me over when he stormed out of the dressing room..."

Kurt huffed softly at this. "Sounds very sophisticated, right," he murmured sarcastically. "But never mind, he is insignificant at the moment, unless they got back together, something I seriously doubt." Blaine ignored the pointed look his friend thrown at them, his blue-green eyes flashing in misty silver in the light of the telly.

"They didn't. Which gave me hope at first... But then he told the man he doesn't mix work and fun, not anymore," he answered, and somehow saying it out loud made that sentence sound even more disheartening. "Do you see now what I mean?"

Long fingers dived into his unruly locks, trying to comfort him and Blaine sighed gratefully, whispering, "At least we're still friends..."

"You don't have to try to fool me, you know. And in my opinion, nothing is over until he tells you in your face, he's not interested." Kurt's tone was deadly serious and Blaine managed to smile a faint little smile, brushing his free fingers against is friend's, silently saying thank you.


	12. Ep12

Hey guys,

so this totally hasn't turned out the way I wanted to, thank it the Warblers and their childishness... and the fact most of them saw snow for the first time in their life... Yeah. I kissed the Harry/Blaine clumsy romance bye-bye when they got to the mysterious place... *sigh* Hopefully next chapter would make it up for this fiasco *grin*

Thanks for the reviews, adds and hits. You're great! **chocolatedogz **I couldn't reply to you, but thanks for the review on the latest chapter!

Cheers,  
Lilith

* * *

**Ep.12 –**** Snow? Snow in Los Angeles?**

To celebrate the success of learning their Hey, Soul Sister routine, Harry decided to show his more human side and gave them thirteen tickets to a secret place. Naturally it excited the Warblers and caused them to talk about this mysterious place called Wonder Land – "How original," Kurt scoffed softly with a roll of his eyes when he read the contents f his ticket the first time – and what they would find there.

Of course Blaine was excited too, he looked forward to spend some time that was not filled with cursing and screaming with Harry, who, as if to prove Blaine right, masterfully avoided being alone with him since the ominous "morning after" when they found their limbs hopelessly entangled to the great amusement of Blaine's friends.

That morning was one of the most embarrassing moments of his life for sure, no matter how right Harry felt in his arms or how corny that thought itself sounded. And if it wasn't enough that Blaine's face was burning when he noticed their state, those bastards who dared to call themselves his friends had the gall to snicker and mockingly coo at them, not to mention Wes' outrageous wink aimed in his direction, while the Asian boy mouthed "Good catch."

Blaine shook his head and looked around in the practice hall, his gaze never resting for more than a few seconds before wandering over to the next glowing face. "You'll never find out the secret." He heard the smug, husky voice next to him, and he had to clench his teeth together to prevent himself from shrieking like a girl on a crappy horror movie.

"Kurt and Bailey think that it's a spa," Blaine answered, sending a mild glare at the smirking choreographer who snorted at this.

"Trust Hummel to think the name Wonder Land equals with a wellness centre," Harry scoffed. "Although I'm more curious about where do _you_ think we are going."

"Nah... you'd laugh at me." He would never admit he wished they got tickets to Disney Land.

"Can't be worse than Puckerman's suggestion of it must be a newly built red light district." The older man sneered disdainfully and Blaine sputtered in shock; trust the self-entitled badass to suggest something like that. "So?"

"Don't even think about it." He shook his head in denial. "Just because Puck was his usual exuberant self, it doesn't mean I'll share my ridiculous and farfetched ideas with you."

"Good. Then keep it to yourself," Harry answered, obviously sulking, before he added, "Killjoy."

Blaine just grinned, happy that the awkward avoidance period was finally over even if they only settled back as simple friends. At least Harry was talking to him again... like really talking. "Still not telling."

"And I wanted to be nice and give you a lift..."

"That's totally unfair!" Blaine grumbled, but he refused to admit he was pouting. "I don't have a car and would never ride with Wes... like in a thousand or so years. One almost near death experience is enough for a life time. You can't be so heartless!"

"Suck it up and move your ass." Harry rolled his eyes with a devilish smirk. "That blasted puppy face of yours saved you for now. And I still owe you for being a pathetic bull-headed coward." The last part was uttered so softly that Blaine was sure he wasn't supposed to hear it.

To tell the truth, he was a bit cautious about the ride, fearing they would have nothing to talk about, but Harry just grinned roguishly and turned on the radio with a wink, singing along on his deep, husky voice that sent not so innocent shivers down Blaine's spine despite the imperfectness of that voice.

He had never heard Harry sing before, and probably he was the first to hear it too, or so he liked to think so, because it gave him warm tingles and filled his heart with satisfaction. "Cut the gaping, you look like a fish," the choreographer grumbled, but his cheeks were tinted pink. "I'm allowed to sing, not?"

"Of course... sorry. I just never..." Blaine stammered and he couldn't believe he was once again reduced to a blubbering mess just because those sharp green eyes were aimed at him. "I like your voice."

Harry snorted. "Sure. It's all scratchy and totally false, but then again you have no sense of fashion or talent in dancing either, so what did I expect?" Blaine pressed his lips together at this, even though he knew it wasn't aimed to hurt his feelings. Kurt and the others teased him about his taste and appearance daily, yet he never felt upset about it.

But then again he didn't have a huge crush on them, did he?

"And now you're sulking," this time Harry's tone was softer.

"Am not." He crossed his arms in front of his chest petulantly, not caring he was acting childish.

"Sure not," came the disbelieving reply, however before Blaine could have answered Harry parked the car in front of a huge building complex that looked more like the result of the mating of a factory and a glass palace, causing the younger of the two to gawk in disbelief.

"What the hell?" The words were out of his mouth before he could control them and in answer Harry looked positively smug, which only grew when they met the others in the parking lot.

"You brought us to a recycling factory?" Wes asked, twining his arms around their choreographer from behind. "And I started to believe you have a few nice bones in your body."

Blaine felt his hands clench into fists at the sight, but then Harry twisted his neck and smiled at Wes charmingly before, with a perfectly aimed hit he elbowed the Asian boy in the stomach causing him to stagger back a few steps, gasping for air.

"I hope you liked my nice bones in your body," The green eyed man said sweetly, making the others shudder and Wes whine pitifully until David wrapped one of his arms around his shoulder in a sympathetic way. "Now instead of spouting of lame ideas why don't you go in and see for yourselves if this monstrosity is actually a recycling factory or not."

The Warblers and Kurt didn't need more encouragement. In Blaine's eyes he still wasn't really one of them, even though the brunet was actually one of his best friends. To him Kurt was and always would be one of the New Directions' cast and it had nothing to do with their roles and the almost blinding shine of Kurt's character. Blaine and the Warblers only spent a few months in the show, barely appearing on screen for more than a few minutes, while Kurt was one of the founding members of the show, an original New Directions member. So he watched as they attacked the entrance, only noticing Harry's presence when his friend squeezed his upper arm.

"You have a ticket too, you know."

"Of course. I just spaced out," Blaine said, shrugging sheepishly. "Shall we go?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at his outstretched hand, making Blaine realise he offered his hand unconsciously, but in spite of the hot blush he felt taking over his whole face, he didn't retreat his hand. "Let's." Harry nodded and slipped his fingers through his, intertwining their hands.

Could it mean he had a chance?

Blaine decided to think about what could and what couldn't happen between him and Harry, enjoying the feeling of the surprisingly cold hand in his, until they stepped through the automatic doors and he was hit in the face by something freezing and wet... mere moments before he was tackled then hoisted onto a dozen shoulders only to be dropped into something even more freezing and wet.

Blaine suspected his brained cased to work in order to allow his survival instincts to kick in, because all he remembered of flailing and spluttering and spitting out a vast amount of icy white coldness from his mouth before he realised he was surrounded by even more cold whiteness and his team mates were clutching their stomachs laughing at his expense like mad.

"You fucking bastards!" His hands grabbed a handful of whiteness, still not really recognising what it was and he threw it at the cackling group of monsters, who in turn started laughing even harder.

"You throw like a girl," Bailey gasped out, leaning against Lynn next to him.

"Hells no! My sister sure as hell throws better than him!" Chris snickered, trying to get off the ground where he had been rolling not a minute ago.

"And have you seen his face?"

"Oh yeah, I thought he was going to drown in the snow!"

"Hilarious!"

"And I have it on my phone!"

Blaine wanted to hurl a bunch of insults at them and even threaten them about the video, but his mind was finally catching up with him, registering the word "snow" and causing his eyes to widen and zoom on Harry instantly.

"Snow?" he breathed in shock, looking down at the ground that soaked his clothes. "Snow in Los Angeles?"

"I think we broke him," somebody muttered in mock worry.

"How is this possible?" Blaine asked, staring back at Harry who walked closer and was smiling wickedly.

"It's a secret," he answered, then winked offering his hand. "Now case the gawking. We have eleven moronic asses to beat in a snowball war. What do you say Hummel, are you in?" Harry turned to a smirking Kurt whose expression turned downright devious at the question.

"Oh, I'm so in. These wimpy Warblers won't even know what hit them!"

"Hah, three against eleven? You don't stand a chance!" David cried challengingly already gathering some snow to form his first ball.

"We'll see, prep boy, we'll see," was everything Harry said, before the war broke out causing every one of them to become drenched in snow.


	13. Ep13

Hey guys,

here is the new chapter which was actually written ages ago. It was like the third or so chapter I've written, but it's my personal favourite because Blaine is just plain adorable when he is sick and Harry is nice and gentle, something almost shocking coming from him *snicker*

Once again thanks for the adds and the reviews not to mention hits. You rock!

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**Ep****13 – It's just a little cold**

Blaine's body was racked by another fit of coughs, his eyes watered and he firmly believed he was going to die. An entire mountain of tissues lay next to his bed, covering the floor and threatening to fall over, flooding the only free space in the room next to his desk too. The curtains were shut, because the light hurt Blaine's bleary eyes, yet not even the semidarkness helped, because, frankly he was too weak to even care.

His cell rang, for the umpteenth time that morning, and without question he knew it was his gram, who turned into a smothering mother-hen whenever Blaine was sick even though usually she was the most laid-back seventy-year-old lady in the world. But the phone was out of his reach, and Blaine didn't have the energy to raise his heavy arm or even his throbbing head; maybe he had a fever after all...

Damn snow ball fights and moronic Warblers who thought that bury someone into snow was the definition of fun.

The phone became silent and he moaned in pitiful appreciation, thanking every deity or whatever the little mercy they showed him by ending the call and his misery for at least a half an hour. At least he didn't have a shooting or practice this week, the upsides of being a recruiting guest star, but he still had to cancel all the talk show and gig invitations he had which sucked. Blaine hated disappointing his fans, no matter how surreal the whole "being famous and having fans" ordeal seemed to him.

_I am in misery_

_There ain't nobody_

_Who can comfort me_

"Ugh... not this again," he mumbled incoherently, burying his head deeper into his pillow, wishing he had turned his phone silent.

Then out of nowhere the music disappeared and Blaine heaved a relieved sigh, before coughing in a disturbingly clammy way. His brain was floating amongst puffy clouds, making everything seem foggy and blurry, perhaps this was the reason why his mind didn't register the cool hand pressed to his forehead at first.

"...aine... Blaine." Somebody was calling his name, or so he thought, but it should have been impossible...

"Gram?" he slurred, attempting to open his eyes. "'Mkay... gram, y' can g' home."

"... not your gram." Not gram? Impossible. His gram was the only one who talked or touched him so gently.

"Gram..." The hand disappeared and a panicky, hoarse whine left Blaine's mouth.

"Shh... be back... fever." Fever, right. He had a fever. "... sleep." Hmm... maybe he should.

The next time he heard the chorus of Misery, he actually felt more aware of his surroundings, but not that much better. His lids were as heavy as his other limbs, yet his eyebrows furrowed instinctually, when he heard the music end abruptly, then a soft, somehow familiar husky voice said, "Hello, Mrs. Anderson. No, Blaine is in bed, I'm a friend of his. Yes, I'm taking good care of him, you don't have to worry. No, he's sleeping. Yes, of course. I know how to cook. Yes. Yes. No. Of course. It was my pleasure."

Friend? What friend? He hadn't given a spare key to any of his fellow Warblers, not even Kurt, not that this mysterious person could have been Kurt with such a velvety voice. Not that Kurt's voice wasn't good, honestly, he had the most amazing voice, Blaine had ever heard, but this one was just... enthralling. And Blaine's head really needed a brain transplantation.

Because, what if this unknown guy was a robber or some kind of crazy stalker some of the film stars had? Of course Blaine wasn't all that famous, considering he only started filming mere months ago, but still. Insane people were everywhere!

Long fingers brushed his sweat soaked, curly locks from his forehead. "Your fever finally broke, that's good." Now, that voice was just extremely familiar.

Blaine managed to open his eyes to slits and opened his chapped lips to do what he wasn't sure, but the only thing that left his mouth was a raspy groan, which caused the blurry figure next to him to chuckle.

"You look so vulnerable and weak, as if you had some kind of deathly disease instead of just a little cold," the blurry person commented, massaging Blaine's scalp, a divine feeling in itself.

"W-who..." Blaine croaked out.

There was a moment of silence, he felt as all of his aching muscles tensed up in anticipation, before it was broken by the mystery guy's mumbling, "Oh yeah, blind like a bat without glasses or contacts." And even Blaine with his currently fogged up head knew that he wasn't really supposed to hear this. "I'm Harry, Blaine."

Harry.

Oh. That explained the funny feeling in his stomach upon hearing that voice. He tried to focus on the hazy face, but could only recognize the mop of black and the glowing green spots, that was supposed to be Harry's hair and eyes.

"How...?" The scratchy thing that tore from his throat was one of the most pathetic things Blaine had ever heard. Why couldn't he ever be composed and cool when he met Harry? Just once? So maybe the man would consider thinking of him more than a simple charity-case-like friend?

"I asked your landlord for the spare keys when you didn't open the door despite my disturbingly loud knocking and constant calling your cell." So it wasn't his gram, after all. "But I have to tell you, you are a nightmare when it comes to sickness. All limp and delirious, which made giving you the medicines a right pain."

"Thanks," Blaine coughed out and those fingers caressed his cheeks in return, something that made him want to see the other even more.

"No need to thank me. You are my friend and as such very important to me."

Friend, right. Why did that word hurt more than it should have, when Blaine perfectly knew they were only friends and would be nothing more?


	14. Ep14

Hey guys,

this should have been out around Christmas, but the story was nowhere near finished that time, so here it is. One more chapter to go, then it's over and done with, although I might write a sequel later. I already have one of the chapters done in my head (title is Jealousy btw *hint, hint*), but now I'm working on an epic length Klaine story which is different than most if not all the stories ever written with this pairing or so I hope to think, but I have to admit CP Coulter and infraredphaethon have been great inspiration *grin*

Now enjoy and hope you'll like it!

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**Ep.14**** – Tree Disaster**

Blaine withheld a resigned sigh as he looked around the pine tree market, watching as happy couples and bubbly families wandered around sorting trough the evergreen wonders while he stood there, completely alone, feeling perhaps the loneliest since he moved to Los Angeles and left her gram behind in Minnesota.

Sure it was only half a year ago and he should have felt extremely privileged about having a job within the first month of getting into the city, but Christmas was coming and he had nowhere to go, because Gram was invited to spend the hols with Blaine's parents, the very people who wanted to do nothing with him ever since he had come out.

The sigh found its way through his lips in the end, and Blaine turned his gaze away from the people at the market, continuing his own tree hunt, without success. His apartment was too small for these monsters and the bitter part of him didn't even want to buy a tree at all. Because, if he wanted to be honest it was just a waste of money as there would be no presents under the tree nor flashy mouth-watering dinner with a merry bunch of people who joked around at the table.

Splendid, just what he needed. Even more depressing thoughts. At least his gram sounded apologetic and worried when she informed him of her decision of accepting the invitation. And Blaine understood this, after all he had two other siblings, a sister and a brother he didn't even have the chance to get to know, and she had every right to spend time with them too after everything she did for him in the four years they lived together.

Gram was his greatest heroin, the coolest person he had ever met, and a fond smile curled Blaine's lips as he remembered all the times when his gram ripped Blaine's father a new one for daring to degrade Blaine for who he was. And every time his father pursed his lips, that looked so much like Blaine's, but actually shut up and didn't utter another foul word toward his son.

Yes, Gram was a real goddess in all her tiny, steel grey haired glory, someone who had the guts to stand up to everyone and never failed to tell them off if they were being offensive to her "favourite grandson", no matter who they were.

"Blaine?" Blaine's shoulders tensed up as he was pulled back to reality, but he turned toward the familiar sounding voice dutifully.

"Harry," he said, unable to hide the shock from his tone. "What are you doing here?"

"Buying a tree?" The choreographer raised an eyebrow, pointing at the trees all around them. "Obviously."

"Oh... yes, of course. I mean... I thought you were going back to England for the holiday?" Blaine stuttered, feeling his cheeks heating up and he wished he could have blame it on the cold, but living in L.A. had its flaws too. Like the constant warm temperature and total lack of snow.

Harry's expression darkened for a second and Blaine expected he would snap at him any moment now, but the older man only shrugged with a grimace, saying, "So not happening. Declined the invitation when I got a wind of Ginny attending too, being single and eager to meet with me again."

Blaine frowned at that, remembering Harry's vague explanation about how he found out he was gay. He mentioned a girl, Chang or Chen? whatever, a wet kiss and his best friend's baby sister who was totally enamoured with him even though they barely ever talked. Which was something Blaine could sympathize with, because – if you overlooked the foul mouth during practices – Harry was the sweetest and most caring person since... ever and it was natural women and men fall for him without him even trying.

"Ah, I see," he managed to force the words out of his mouth. "So, um... what are your plans for Christmas?"

"Probably cooking up some turkey or fish then watching cheesy and outdated Christmas movies, just like every damned year," Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "I was never the one for Christmas," he added with a slight frown. "And you? Any great plans like finally storming over to Hummel's house and snogging the living life out of the guy?"

Was it just him, or did Harry's tone turned a bit sharper when he said Kurt's name? "That's not amongst my plans, sorry," Blaine answered with a lopsided grin. "Actually I have the same plans as you, sans the cooking. The Fire Department threatened to let my apartment burn down the next time I went near the kitchen."

That earned him a disbelieving laugh. "So what? You'll just sit at home and starve?" Harry gasped out between two fits of giggles.

"No, I thought about ordering some Chinese or something." Blaine replied in his most affronted tone. "I know how to use the phone, thank you very much"

"Chinese? On Christmas? You've got to be kidding me!" the choreographer exclaimed in mock horror. "And sure you do, except when you have a little cold and about to die."

"It happened once!" Blaine refused to stomp his foot like a five-year-old. "And Chinese is great! Sweet and sour chicken and–"

"Don't you dare continue with this blasphemy! I might not be the epitome of Christmas posterboy, but this is too much even for me!"

"Well, should I starve to death instead?"

"No, of course not. But you can always came over to mine..." Two faint pink dots appeared on Harry cheeks and green eyes refused to meet his own.

"You're inviting me over?" Blaine asked in shock.

"You don't have to accept, if you don't want to!" the slighter man defended hastily.

"To spend Christmas together?" It sounded too good to be true.

"Oh, just forget it! It was obviously a bad idea and–"

"I'd love to," Blaine cut in with a grin causing Harry's gaze to snap up to meet his.

"Don't expect anything fancy, though. And no gifts!" Harry warned, but there was no threat or malice in his voice.

"Okay... nothing fancy and no presents." Blaine nodded slowly, before a sly smile curved his lips. "Are you sure about the second one though? I'm told to be one of the best gift givers in the world."

Harry's blush became more prominent at this. "Absolutely sure!"

"Sure, no presents then." But even as he said this, Blaine already knew he would give the other something even if only for turning this whole tree disaster into a miracle. "Maybe we should choose a tree now?"


	15. Ep15

Hey guys,

so here is the last chapter, sorry for the waiting I was totally absorbed in an actual book series. I hope you'll like it and I just want to thank your for being here and reading this little story. Thanks for the reviews, really you were great giving me reason to write. Thanks for the ads and hits too, you rock! So Enjoy this last one!

**Warning: Boykissing at the end!

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**

**Ep.15 – Kiss him, I dare you!**

Blaine moaned in delight as the first piece of turkey melted on his tongue. His eyes closed in their own accord and his expression turned into pure ecstasy, unknowingly making the other man in the room flush in embarrassment and desire. He had no idea, Harry was such an incredible cook, not that he should have been surprised after the performance he had seen back in June; the man was perfection personalized.

And no, Blaine wasn't biased just because he was head over heels for the choreographer. Harry was simply amazing, talented, witty, sweet and the best friend one could ever want and... how Blaine's thoughts turned into something so disgustingly sappy and girlish he had no clue. He was just mooning over the piece of meat in his mouth a moment ago, then as if a switch had been switched in his mind his thoughts started to gush over his dance teacher. Not the best way to start the night.

"If you plan to lick your plate clean, I can offer you a few more. It would spare me the trouble of doing the washing-up," Harry commented offhandedly and Blaine flushed in mortification.

"Well, blame yourself, you are an excellent cook," He tried to play it off as if nothing happened, yet his voice still shook a bit.

"Compliments never worked on me, but thank you none the less," Harry smirked, standing up and gathering the empty plates.

"You don't need to remind me, especially after the incident with Alex." Those green eyes practically glowed in smug and cruel satisfaction at the mention of once of the biggest row ever happening in _P. Hall 11_.

"Good boy," Harry patted Blaine's head with his freehand, burying his fingers into the curly locks for a second or two and sending pleasure filled shivers down on the younger one's spine. "Now go and pick some tooth-achingly sweet movie we can watch while I prepare the dessert."

Blaine hurried complied if only to hide his scarlet face and less innocent parts of his body from Harry. He had no intention to ruin this perfectly nice day by his raging hormones. Of course the channels were practically flooded with the traditional Christmas shows, one tackier that the other and while Blaine actually was a big softy when it came to Disney Classics and musicals, _Love Actually _and the likes had never been amongst his favourites.

Then out of sudden a green face flashed on the screen causing his hand to stop and a wide smile took over his face as he recognized one of his favourite Christmas movies; _Grinch._

"_You're a mean one Mr Grinch_

_You really are a heel_

_You're as cuddly as a cactus_

_You're as charming as an eel_

_Mr. Grinch_

_You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel"_

The notes left his mouth almost unconsciously, words known like the back of his hand and Blaine, not caring that his secret crush for half a year was in the other room, sang along heartily, grinning like a fool. Nonetheless he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the husky chuckle from behind him after the song ended.

"I have this one on DVD if you want to watch it from the beginning." Harry was standing in the living room door tray in hand and Blaine had to gulp down the fist sized spiked rock in his throat to be able to answer.

"Erm... It's okay. I don't know why I sang along and I'm sure there is something better we could watch–" he rambled, not looking at his companion.

Harry snorted inelegantly and suddenly he was next to Blaine, putting the tray down on the coffee table before he offered him a cup of strawberry-vanilla sundae. "Of course it wasn't because you're crazy about the movie," Harry intoned with a heavy layer of sarcasm in his tone.

"Okay... I might like it... a bit..."

"You know, you don't have to pretend you're cool. Both of us clearly know that you are a complete dork." Blaine chocked on his sundae at this, staring wide-eyed at the older man. "What? If you'd forgotten, I was in your flat, in your _bedroom_, which is full of musical posters and Disney _cartoons_."

Oh shit! Here went that miniscule chance he might had had with the man, just because he couldn't grow up enough to give up his obsession with those blasted cartoon musicals. He wanted to crawl under a rock and die or he would have agreed to the floor opening up and swallowing him whole to avoid even more embarrassment that was sure to come.

"You enjoy this," he muttered sulkily, glowering at his ice cream.

"Idiot," was Harry's answer that instantly gained his attention. However he regretted looking at the choreographer, because he was sure the hurt he felt was showing in his eyes, just like always. "Look over there," Harry added in a softer voice and Blaine's gaze followed the raised hand that was pointing at a shelf full of... Disney Classics.

Blaine's mouth hit the floor, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Impossible," he whispered.

"You're really slow, huh?" Harry scoffed, but he was grinning mischievously, striking green orbs flashing with unnamed emotions.

"And you're bitch, but do you hear me complaining?" Blaine shot back, his voice becoming hushed and husky, while a little voice in him chanted: _'Kiss him! Kiss him! Just Kiss him!'_.

"Oh I can hear your whining all right," Harry smirked, lips parted slightly.

'_Kiss him, damnit!'_

"Oh shut up!"

"Make me."

'_Kiss him, I dare you!'_

And he did.

_**End**_


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